Check my privilege

I have been reading a lot of books recently, and one of them challenged its readers to "check their privilege." I had seen this phrase tossed around on social media, but I had never really understood what it meant.

Here is an excerpt from the book:

. . . I've found from my conversations and from witnessing the conversations of others that very few people actually know what privilege is, let alone how they would go about checking it. . . . Not only is the concept of privilege integral to our real understanding of issues of race in the West, it is crucial to the success of any efforts towards social justice that we make. . . . The definition of privilege is in reality much simpler than a lot of social justice discussions would have you believe. Privilege, in the social justice context, is an advantage or set of advantages that you have that others do not. 

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo.

 

So what are my privileges? Trying to unpack them doesn't mean they are "what makes me better than you" or "what I feel guilty for having" (although knowing me, guilt always tags along). It should mean acknowledging that everything I have is not solely due to my own hard work. I did not earn everything that I have. Some things I just . . . have. This is an exercise to help me consider that what you have or don't have is not solely because you worked that hard or didn't work hard enough. It could be because you started in a different place than I did and because there were more opportunities for me to take advantage of, advantages that were barred for you.

I guess first off I'll start with race since that has been weighing on my mind the last few years. Part of my privilege is that for a lot of my life, race is not something I have thought about. I will confess that when I was in high school, I really didn't understand (not that I fully do now) racism. I remember that every February, Black History Month would roll around, and teachers would attempt to educate us. Once our high school had a speaker come in to discuss something about race. The speaker was black. I don't remember what was said, but I remember thinking "race isn't an issue at our school. We're all friends. It is only when old people come and remind us of what happened in the past that anything becomes an issue. Can't they just let my generation move on?" It's so embarrassing now. But it is what I honestly thought. I thought we were past racism. Done with it. And why did I think that? I guess because I was white and while I had friends who were black, I must not have ever had black or brown friends who were comfortable enough to share with me at that time how racism affected them still. Now. In the present. Not a past tense activity. So just the fact that for most of my life, I have never thought about the color of my skin when making decisions about how to act or what to wear or where I could be or how I should speak has been a privilege.

I'll go on to say that being a woman is also a privilege in some ways. It is assumed that I will be gentle and kind. Strangers who know nothing about me assume that I am not a threat or could not physically hurt them.  That implicit trust that others give me based on nothing other than my gender has been a privilege. Along with that, I will say that it is a privilege that my brain and my anatomy agree regarding my sex/gender. It is a privilege to simply walk into a building and use the bathroom without an inner debate about which door to push open and uncertainty as to how I might be viewed by others who judge my appearance.

My sexual preference is also a privilege. I have never been excluded due to being straight. I have never lost friends or family members' approval. I have never had my right to marriage debated in court. If I wanted to adopt or foster, there would be no additional burdens in my way. Being straight is a privilege.

It is also a privilege that I have been generally healthy. I was not born with any irregularities. My organs and limbs function as expected. There is the small exception of having bad eye sight, but even that is countered by the privilege of glasses. My ears can hear. My legs can walk. My fingers can hold pencils. My mouth can speak. My brain can remember and process. I do not have the challenge of mental illness or physical ailments. It is such a privilege to have a functioning body. And on top of that already great luck, I've also usually been on the slender side, and I have general pleasing features. What a privilege to have a face that doesn't make people uncomfortable or look away. What unearned chance.

I have the privilege of a supportive family. I grew up with two parents. I have siblings. In addition to that, I'm also the youngest, so there was less responsibility of being a good example and there were more people around willing to help me. Both of my parents have college degrees, and I never had homework questions that they couldn't answer. And if it was really obscure and they didn't know the answer, we owned a full encyclopedia set, and by middle school, we had internet and computers in my home. My dad had a job that paid for a roof over our head, food on the table, and other comforts. We were middle class. We had savings, and we had extended family that were in the position to help us if anything did happen to my dad. Also we had life insurance! And my dad genuinely cared about me and supported my hobbies. My mom did not work, so she was always present. She knew who all of my friends were. She attended every field trip. She volunteered at my school. She attended every parent-teacher conference. She never had to choose between providing for our family or being with our family. And not only did was she a stay-at-home mom, but she loved that role. It was her choice. She was not miserable or stuck. When I reached high school, she started working part time, because she wanted to. Having two loving parents and seeing my mother's example of choice was a privilege.

I have the privilege of a college education. I graduated with no loans, because between a scholarship, my student jobs, my parents, and my grandparents (along with choosing a less expensive university), everything was paid for. I also managed to get my degree within three years (so I didn't have to pay for a fourth or a fifth year!). I was able to graduate in three years, because I received college credit for some of my high school AP classes, I chose a major and minor with fewer graduating requirements than other degrees, I received special permission from my guidance counselor to take extra classes over the semester course load limit, and I took classes during the spring/summer terms. Did I work hard? Yes. But were there still a lot of factors that I did nothing to earn that helped me graduate? Yes. It was a privilege that without those factors would have been much, much harder to achieve.

That's where I'll leave this blog post today. This is not a comprehensive list, but it does illustrate for me that I did not earn everything I have. There are advantages in my life that did not come because of my hard work. They were just there due to pure chance, in part, and in other cases due to systematic favoring, intentional benefits, and traditional stereotypes. 

As I try to tackle and understand why America is where it is today, I will continue to check my privilege and consider that I wouldn't have the life I have without my privilege. From there, I can begin to be more understanding when listening to others who did not go through life with the same privileges and why that is an important distinction.